Templar- one who protects sacred things
From Scumbag a Tribe leader they call Wrench
I met Mike Snyder over five years ago when he started attending Freedom Biker Church in York, PA. Not long after, he asked me to be his sponsor, and I asked him to join the church security team. Over countless hours riding, laughing, eating, crying, and just doing life together, we forged a bond that’s nothing short of brotherhood.
On July 8, 2022, while roofing in York, Mike fell off a 13-foot-high roof, bouncing off an open tractor-trailer door on the way down. He broke his back and both arms. Had he not managed to get a hand behind his head, he likely would’ve died—or at the very least suffered a traumatic brain injury.
I was at a dog training appointment when I got the call he was en route to the hospital. Not long after, another call: he was trying to leave against medical advice. I jumped on my motorcycle to go talk some sense into him. On the way, a car came into my lane on Route 40 and hit me. I was okay—helmet saved my life—but the bike was damaged. Next thing I knew, I was in the same hospital as Mike. You can’t make this stuff up.
Brothers and Sisters from Freedom Biker Church poured in to support both of us. Once I was cleared, I went upstairs to read Mike the riot act—and that’s when the photo was taken.
A few days later, Mike was scheduled for surgery. The doctor, checking in beforehand, asked if he’d walked since the accident. Mike casually said, “Yeah, last night.” The doctor, baffled, said, “You shouldn’t be able to walk.” Mike responded, “Well, you’ll have to help me stand up—my arms are broken.” And then, with the help of the staff, he stood up and walked. The doctor was floored. “I don’t get it,” he said. Mike replied, “Jesus.” The doctor muttered, “If you believe in that stuff…” Mike gave him a look that said it all.
Soon after, Mike was home—hurting, but healing. Days later, he was changing the oil in his wife’s car. When asked why, he simply said, “It needed to be done.”
In August 2023, when I moved my family and business to Texas, Mike took a week off work and made the 1,300-mile road trip with us. He wrenches on my cars and bikes—because let’s face it, all I really know is dogs and tactical stuff. I trained his Olde English Bulldogge, Ripp, and he survived the road trip with me, Lisa, Frank, Emilie, and five dogs. Someone even made him a shirt that read: “I survived the Matheis’.” That alone would break most mortal men.
Between September 2024 and January 2025, I went through a deep depression that nearly took my life. I lost 70 pounds and couldn’t even FaceTime my Brothers—Mike, Houdini, Ice Box, and Preacher—because I didn’t want them to see me like that. They prayed, sent food, and did what they could from 1,300 miles away. Houdini had to talk Mike out of literally driving down to kidnap me back to York.
Eventually, with God’s help, I began to take my thoughts captive and broke free. I followed Houdini’s advice and started attending the Cowtown and Hilltop Men’s Alliance Tribes. Quickly, I was on fire for Christ like never before.
Back in York, there were talks about the future of Iron Sharpens Iron, a men’s ministry I started with Houdini, Ice Box, and Mike. It was basically Men’s Alliance—without the workout. Men gathered around a fire, shared the Word, and got real about their struggles. It was a safe place for guys fresh out of jail, rehab, or just rock bottom. Eventually, the group transitioned into a Bible study at the church. Ice Box and Mike stepped away.
Mike was disenchanted and considered leaving Freedom altogether—until Houdini told him about Men’s Alliance. Mike saw the fire in me and got curious. He visited a few other York Tribes and was especially encouraged by Torque (who, let’s face it, is kind of a big deal in MA). Eventually, he and Houdini pitched the idea of launching a Tribe at Freedom. Pastor Jimmy gave the green light, and Mike—the most introverted man I know next to my son Frank—agreed to lead it.
Here’s the twist: Mike’s road name used to be Scumbag. It made sense. Before Jesus, he was a drunk, drug addict, angry and full of rage. Even after getting sober, he kept the name as a reminder. Truth be told, I never liked it. Introducing your friend “Scumbag” to Christians always required an explanation.
In Men’s Alliance, after your third meeting, you stand on a tailgate or tire, share your story, and the Brothers vote on your call sign. While giving his spiel, Mike pointed to me and said, “I’m always wrenching on my stuff or his.” And just like that, WRENCH was born. Scumbag died that day.
On April 8, 2025, at 6:30 PM, the Freedom Tribe launched—the fastest launch in Men’s Alliance history by two days. Over 30 men showed up. Wrench led the devotional, preaching the anointed Word of Jesus Christ. That’s something Scumbag never could have done.
Here’s the rest of the story: before I left PA, Houdini took me to a Men’s Alliance Tribe in Maryland. I learned that I wasn’t as broken as I thought. I was focusing on what I couldn’t do instead of what I could. Rucking and sandbag workouts became lifelines for me in Texas. In August 2024, while visiting York with Lisa, we prayed for a man and his wife—Derick and Kayla—after a dog training appointment. They’d lost a baby. What we didn’t know was how deeply their marriage was suffering. Months later, back in PA, Derick now Circuit approached me at a Tribe and reminded me who he was. He told me that our prayer helped save their marriage.
And then I realized—that’s when the devil attacked me. When I got home, I stopped working out. I got isolated. The enemy tempted, deceived, and tried to destroy me.
We had been visiting churches but nothing felt right. That changed when I attended the Hilltop Tribe and met Forge. I found my second tribe and now attend both Cowtown and Hilltop where I serve as the media chief. We are also now members of the Burleson Bible Church. He was discouraged by the lack of turnout. A few months later, I told him, “Because you were obedient, I came. Because I came, Wrench caught the fire and launched the Freedom Tribe 1300 miles away.” Wrench and I talked on the phone after our respective Tribes last night. We were both fired up. I told him, if my suffering helped restore a marriage and ignite a fire in you to start the Freedom Tribe, then it was all worth it. I’d do it again.
All of this has happened since mid-January.
On May 2, 2025, I’ll be back in York. Wrench, Ice Box, Houdini, and we will saddle up on our motorcycles and ride to the Annual Horde of Barbarian Ambassadors Men’s Alliance National Conference in Richmond, VA—a family reunion of Brothers we’ve never met. We will return home better men, husbands, fathers, and brothers as we always do from attending a tribe.
This is what Jesus can do when we step out in obedience and let Him lead. Men’s Alliance and Women’s Alliance are sweeping the nation and the world. You know deep down there’s more to life than what you’re living.
To my Brother Wrench, I love your heart and am blessed to be able to witness how the Lord is using you.
Step up. Embrace your heritage. Be tribal. Be rugged. Be real.
